


The last Knight of Hell

by SherezadeS



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon Dean Winchester, Gabriel Lives, M/M, Mark of Cain, Post Season 9, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-01-26 06:43:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1678562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherezadeS/pseuds/SherezadeS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam stands in the doorway while Castiel walks into the room for the first time. Dean is missing, as well as his favorite gun and his bag. He also notices other things he wishes he didn’t, the empty bedside table in the opposite side of Dean’s, the empty top shelf in the wardrobe and the empty hangers. Empty space that Dean carved in his bedroom for someone else to fill, and now that he’s finally here, Dean’s gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for 9x23 obviously.  
> This is not only my first Supernatural fic, but also my first time writing in English, so any comment and critique would be apreciated!

The minutes pass, and Crowley doesn’t show up. Sam screams for him to appear, but nothing happens and the silence of the bunker, the knowledge that he is the only soul in the place, becomes more oppressive. He feels tempted to call Castiel for help, knows that the angel would do anything for his brother, but it would be unfair to ask him to sacrifice the last remnants of stolen grace, not when he has already sacrificed so much for Dean. He doesn’t even know if the angel is still alive or if Metatron killed him too. He could be trapped in Heaven right now, and Sam couldn’t know, couldn’t help.

His brother is probably stuck behind the veil, unable to enter Heaven. It might be selfish not wanting his brother to be at peace without him, but he can’t just let him go, they’ve always pulled each other back to life, no matter the consequences. He’s standing in front of Dean’s room now, carried by grief, barely conscious of having walked there. He’ll pray to every angel left if that's what it takes, there has to be someone willing to help them one more time, some angel that can give them one last miracle. He’ll make a pact with Death himself if he has to.

He opens the door, expecting to see his brother’s body on the bed, but there’s nothing there. Somehow, his brother’s gone. 

* * *

 

“We should take him down to earth and cremate him.”

Hanna looks surprised at Castiel’s words. “Angels don’t require funerary rites.” She wonders if perhaps Castiel has spent too much time in the company of men, too much time has one.

“This body belonged to a human, not an angel.” He starts removing the rubble to get to the man whose name he doesn’t even know.

A few other angels join in, and Hanna pulls Castiel away gently. They all heard Metatron’s speech, they all guessed what Dean Winchester meant to the angel, and if someone didn’t, they would be able to see it in his eyes right now. She wonders if she could grieve something with such intensity, but she doesn’t think she’ll like to feel what their leader feels. “We’ll take care of it. There are other things that require your attention.”

“Yes.” He’s trying so hard not to break in front of them “We still need to find a way to open the gates.” It’s not what she meant, but she nods quietly and leaves him wander away.

 

 

 The jail doesn’t seem to end, one infinite hall with endless cells. He doesn’t expect to find anything here, except silence broken occasionally by his sobbing when he can’t keep it in. He knows his righteous man deserves nothing less than the paradise, but he’s not foolish enough to think that the Mark won’t keep him from entering Heaven. It doesn’t matter. He will gladly give his last sliver of grace, and his last breath after that, to rescue him from hell once more.

“I don’t want to be rude, but are you going to cry for much longer? I’d _really_ like to get out of here.” The voice startles him out of his crying. Could it really be…? He dries his face with his hands and starts walking again, but he can’t see anyone. He runs, the voice coming from much farther away than what it sounded like. He stops at the end of the hall, in front of the last cell, where Gabriel greets him with a smirk, leaning on the bars. “So… How did the “Kill Metatron Tour” go?”

“So it was really you” He tries to smile, he hasn’t lost everything, he isn’t alone. Gabriel is probably to only other angel that understands free will, that understands him. He takes the key and opens the cell to let him out. Gabriel just frowns at him.

“What happened to you?”

He fell in love, he ached, he died, he lived, he fell, he suffered. He felt envy, greed, gluttony, sloth, pride, wrath and lust. He felt lost, alone, joyous, tired, hopeful. He learned the real value of charity, faith, brotherhood. He gave everything for one man and he lost it all.

“Life”

Gabriel hums in acknowledgment, he heard Metatron’s words as well. “So it’s true? Is he really dead?”

“His blood was on Metatron’s blade.”

He’s not expecting the archangel to hug him, and he doesn’t let go until Castiel hugs him back. “It’s not so bad. Dean is just behind the gates, waiting for them to open. Probably trying to knock them down by force of will alone, I bet he can’t resist the impulse to try and help all those restless souls.”

“He's not. He…” _Castiel!!! I don’t know if you’re still alive or if you defeated Metatron, but if you are, I need you here!! Dean needs you!! He’s dead and his body… his body is missing, someone stole him!!! Please Castiel!!!_ “I must go. Sam says…”

“It’s fine, go”. Gabriel pats him on the shoulder "And kid... nice trick with the radio back there."

* * *

 

 Sam stands in the doorway while Castiel walks into the room for the first time. Dean is missing, as well as his favorite gun and his bag. He also notices other things he wishes he didn’t, the empty bedside table in the opposite side of Dean’s, the empty top shelf in the wardrobe and the empty hangers. Empty space that Dean carved in his bedroom for someone else to fill, and now that he’s finally here, Dean’s gone.


	2. Chapter 2

“Welcome back to the land of the living.” Crowley is leaning over Dean’s body “Well, not really.” He puts his fingers to Dean’s forehead to heal his body and is shoved away immediately as Dean stands up from the bed. “Oh please, don’t thank me, it was nothing.” The former hunter is apparently too busy packing to pay him any mind. “So, at what brand new life-threatening situation would you like to throw yourself first? Get caught in a hunter’s devil’s trap? A bath in holy water? Eating french fries?”

“Crowley. Shut up.” He doesn’t even look at him, just keeps throwing a few necessities into his bag.

“Pity. I was hoping you’d get a sense of humor along with your new looks.” Dean turns around now, slowly, and tightens the grip on the blade. Crowley’s not really scared of him, but he knows he should be cautious. The main reason he’s lived as long as he has, is because he knows better than to underestimate a Winchester. “You should pull the black back from your eyes. Think of it as rolling contact glasses back into your skull.”

It takes him a few tries, but he gets it eventually. He finishes packing, purposefully leaving behind a few things he tells himself he doesn’t care about anymore, but in reality he doesn’t want to stain them with his touch. Mary’s photograph, the amulet he stole back from Sam, and a simple wooden cross he thought Cas might like to have. He turns his back on these left overs of the man he used to be and starts walking away. He barely makes it to the door when Crowley snaps his fingers and they’re suddenly at a crowded diner.

“What are we doing here?”

“Relax, I just want you to take a look around and get used to your new senses before I let you loose.” Again, not really. He’ll have to keep a tight leash on him while giving him enough illusion of freedom.

The coffee they are served tastes the same as always, but the world around him looks sharper, more defined, almost unreal. He can read the newspaper of the man in the far corner and hear the group of girls gossiping in the bathroom. He can also see Crowley. Not his meat suit, but the rotten lacerated flesh of his true face. Crowley guesses the reason behind the staring and smiles at him. “You should see yourself.”

Dean is getting up and marching towards the bathroom before the other demon can finish. It’s empty and Dean’s got the entire mirror to himself. “You look remarkably like your old master, you know.” He hadn’t noticed Crowley following him, and his surprised to see him standing behind his shoulder. “The same horns and jaws.” One of his hands is still clutching the fabric covered blade, but the other one rises to one of the horns protruding from his forehead and curling backwards in a slight spiral. He can feel it, rough and ribbed under his palm. “You probably don’t know this, but you were his last pupil, his best, _his heir_. The position of Master Torturer has been waiting for you since he died.”

“What if I had ended up in Heaven?”

“Dean,” Crowley’s eyes almost look pitying “you were a noble man, but you were always meant for Hell.”

 

* * *

 

 

 “I just don’t know what it could have happened.” Sam is pacing back and forth, Castiel watching him from the table. “It must have been Crowley; why else wouldn’t he answer the summoning? It can’t be a coincidence.”

“It’s a possibility, but Sam, there are other things to consider. When Cain got the Mark from Lucifer, he made a deal to save his brother. The Mark is a contract, and Dean was carrying it when he died. It is almost certain that your brother is now-”

“No”

“Sam…”

“No. You said _almost_ certain. Almost. Dean may be in Heaven, you don’t know that.”

“Sam, I understand that-”

“Do you think Dean deserves to go to Hell?” He feels so tired “He’s made mistakes, but I’ve forgiven him!!” Everything hurts so god damn much “HE DOESN’T DESERVE TO GO TO HELL AGAIN!! I FORGIVE HIM!!!”

Castiel doesn’t scream back at him nor does he mention the tears pooling in his eyes. He simply stands up and moves to grab the taller man by the shoulders. “I know. But if he _is_ trapped there, we got to do something quickly, I don’t have much grace left.”

The hunter takes a few moments to recompose himself before speaking again. “Crowley must know, he’s king again after all. Maybe that’s why he stole Dean’s body.”

“What do you propose we do?” He takes a step back.

“Well, Crowley won’t come or pick up his phone, so we got to find him. We should just trap one of his demons and get Crowley’s location out of them. You coming with me?”

I should drive back to Heaven. There’s a lot to be done and I might be needed there. Call me when you get the information, I’ll be there.” Sam nods and walks him to the front door “Make sure to eat something first Sam, I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you to.”

“Of course Cas.”

 

* * *

 

 “Hell has definitely changed since last time I was here.” And not for the better, in his opinion. Hell should be fire, pain, anguish and chaos, not a freaking queue. Queues suck, sure, but as a torture method is seriously lacking efficiency. How are souls supposed to turn into demons? It’s also much more quiet, at least two thirds of the millions of racks are empty.

“I made some improvements when I first took control. But don’t worry about them, let me show you to your rooms. You’ve got the biggest torture chamber there is, with everything you can imagine. And you already got some souls waiting for you.”

“Trying to keep me entertained? Or distracted?”

“Well, you have to fill your days with _something_ , don’t you?” They walk in the small cellblock adjacent to the Master Torturer private chambers “I’ll give you as much freedom as you want, as long as you follow a few simple orders.” He points to the demons filling the cells “My former advisers. They foolishly thought it would be wiser to betray me and hand me over to Abaddon.” He hands the cell’s key to Dean “Have fun.” Dean lets himself smile.  


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm late, I was really busy studying for my German test!

During the first three days he thinks of nothing but the open flesh and broken bones under his hands. It’s difficult to stop himself, the Mark demands death and violence, and it’s too easy to lose yourself in the throes of bloodlust. On the morning of the fourth day, he slams a new demon to his rack, but he doesn’t immediately pick any blade. She’s terrified of him, scared of the things she’s heard of him as a hunter and of the constant screaming coming from this room since his arrival. Her vessel looks about forty and is wearing a well-tailored but dirty suit. Hell looks like a fucking business office under Crowley.

“Do you know who I am?” His voice takes a soft sweet cadence, as if talking to a frightened child. The woman nods weakly “Do you know why are you here?” She nods. “Tell me.”

“I- I betrayed the King”

“You did. And you know why?” He picks up a red-hot iron and dangles it over her face “Because you’re smart, because you knew Crowley didn’t stand a chance against Abaddon. And he didn’t. If I hadn’t killed her, you would be taking your pick of the spoils right now. And now _I’m_ the last Knight in Hell, so…” He puts the hot metal away and lowers his voice to sweetly whisper in her ear “Do you want to make a deal?”

* * *

 

 

 

“Gabriel is an Archangel”

“But he’s been dead for millennia. Castiel has proven himself a worthy leader over and over”

“But he’s fallen, doesn’t have any grace of his own. Gabriel is the last of the seven Archangels, the most powerful of us all.”

“But…”

The discussion goes on and on. Like it matters. Gabriel said goodbye to Heaven and all of its fighting a long time ago. Let little Castiel lead them and leave him free to go back to Earth to have some more fun. The angels don’t seem to want to understand that, there’s always a group of them surrounding him and asking questions. They don’t seem to able to make any decision on their own, didn’t seem to have learned much when they were cast out, and is driving Gabriel insane. Castiel’s arrival is Heaven sent –metaphorically, of course. They are Heaven and they didn’t sent anything anywhere, but still-, all the angels flock around him and the archangel finally has some space to move again. Apparently the nerdy angel knows just what to say to calm them down, and they fly away happy to have been given an order. As soon as it’s just the two of them, Castiel deflates where he stands.

“I heard about Dean and Cain. I’m sorry.” Castiel nods gratefully “But I’m sure it will all work out in the end. It always does for the Winchesters.”

“I hope you’re right brother.”

“How’s Sam?”

“Determined to get his brother back.”

It’s painful how predictable they are. Abel never fought like this for his brother. He never deserved Cain’s sacrifice in the archangel’s eyes. But Sam and Dean, _they_ are legend material.

“I found Metatron’s spell while you were gone. It looks like a giant glass door, covering the Gates. Your grace is definitely in there, if we could discover all the ingredients and the spell he used, we should be able to reverse it without destroying your grace.”

“The other two components are a nephilim’s heart and a cupid’s bow. As for the incantation, I’m afraid I have no idea.”

“Well, don’t worry,” he hangs one arm over Castiel shoulder and squeezes him “big brother Gabe knows lots about how love works and he will figure this out” The seraph nods quietly but doesn’t look convinced “What’s the matter Cassie, don’t you trust me?”

“It’s just that… I worry that this is still just a trick. I saw your wings burnt on the ground. How did you survive your fight with Lucifer?”

“I didn’t.” He looks serious again and a little annoyed about that fact “He killed me and my grace exploded in every direction, ended up dispersed throughout the cosmos, like it usually happens. But Metatron used the tablet to gather it back together, and here I am.”

“I should have not broken it then, we could have…”

“No, Castiel.” Interrupts the older angel “I should have stayed dead. If we just bring anyone who dies back, how are we going to learn from the consequences of our mistakes?”

* * *

 

Dean leaves Hell for a walk upstairs as soon as he finished with Crowley’s advisors. All save Cynthia, who’s now crawling her way through Hell; hiding and looking for anything that might be useful to him. He’s on his way to a diner in Missouri when he feels the presence of another demon behind him. When he turns around, the demon is a few feet away, cautiously out of reach, and lowers his head slightly when Dean looks at him. A quick look around reveals 15 more demons too far away to sense instinctually, standing next to different cars, under a tree, on a bench. All trying not to draw any civilian’s attention. All looking at him.

“My name is Baal” says the one standing in front of him. He’s powerful, but he can’t recognize his face. He and all the other were definitely Abaddon’s minions “We’ve come to pledge our alliance to the bearer of the Mark”

Dean looks around again, the skin of his right forearm tingling with excitement.

“Why don’t we go for some burgers, Bal?”


End file.
